


And I Have You Guys

by Optimistique



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Brothers of the Broken Horn, SWR
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 11:50:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5204804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Optimistique/pseuds/Optimistique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After returning from their errand on Garel, the crew is surprised to find the Phantom - along with Ezra and Chopper - missing. A telling of the season 2 episode, "Brothers of the Broken Horn" from Kanan's point of view. Because I felt like we were sorely missing the reaction of the crew when they returned to find their youngest member gone. One-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And I Have You Guys

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: As always, I don't own Star Wars Rebels

Kanan crossed his arms irritably as he sat in the common room of the Ghost. Ezra was supposed to have met him here for a training session ten minutes ago, but so far he hadn’t made an appearance. The jedi thought he had made it quite clear to his padawan over the last few days how important it was to buckle down on his lessons now that they knew they had two more inquisitors actively hunting them down. Ezra seemed to agree, and Kanan had been pleased with his continued progress. This morning, however, Ezra apparently thought it more beneficial to sleep in.

With a terse sigh, Kanan stalked out of the room toward Ezra and Zeb’s bunk. When he arrived in the unusually quiet hallway, he knocked on the metal door. “Ezra?”

After a few seconds of silence he keyed the door open. He was surprised to find neither Ezra nor Zeb inside. Frowning, he set off back the way he’d come. If the teen wasn’t sleeping in, then what was he doing?

It was not difficult to locate Zeb. Kanan could smell the aroma of fresh waffles wafting down the corridor before he even reached the galley. He poked his head in to find the lasat savoring a bite of a breakfast he rarely had the opportunity to make, but cherished every time. 

“Zeb, you seen Ezra?” he asked.

“Think I saw ‘im outside with Rex,” his teammate answered without looking up. 

Kanan’s frown deepened. Outside with Rex, was he? That clone was getting way too familiar with the crew. What was he even still doing here? They had brought him to the fleet like Ahsoka asked, but for some reason he hadn’t stayed there. The togruta had instead insisted that he travel on the Ghost for the time being. Much to Kanan’s displeasure, Hera accepted the request.

Kanan made his way to the open ramp of the Ghost. As of last night they had stopped on Garel, a sister planet to Lothal in the Outer Rim, in order to refuel and restock. They now sat in a secluded cargo bay with an open roof, hopefully away from any prying eyes. Among the crates littering the floor of the bay, Kanan saw movement. It was an imperial stormtrooper helmet, but it was not attached to a living being. Chopper held the thing up on one of his droid arms and was weaving smoothly back and forth among the boxes. Ezra crouched a few meters from the astromech, a blaster rifle in his hands. Rex stood behind him, looking on as the young jedi tried to shoot Chopper’s moving target. He was missing horribly.

“Aim, then fire,” Rex advised him. 

Kanan snorted softly. Who asked the old man to give his padawan a lesson in shooting? Rex had been liberal with his advice to Ezra as of late. It was not only annoying, but unnecessary. If anyone could teach Ezra how to use a blaster, it was Kanan. He already had, as a matter of fact. There was a lot more for him to learn, certainly, but it was part of his planned training. However, if the events on the abandoned medical station had shown Kanan anything, it was that what Ezra needed most right now was to be able to defend himself against other Force users. Shooting took a backseat to lightsaber drills and Force exercises at the moment. 

Ezra gave a slight scowl at his current instructor. “Rex, I bet sometimes even you miss.”

Kanan stepped forward, coming alongside the clone and consequently towering over him. “Speaking of, you’re missing jedi training. Which is now. Remember?”

Sighing, Ezra stood to face them both. “You know, I can’t be in two places at once.”

Rex did not back down. “As a soldier, you’re gonna have to learn to prioritize,” he said. He was looking at Ezra, but Kanan knew the words were directed at him.

“Well he’s not a soldier,” he replied. “He’s a jedi.”

The boy’s eyes fell to the floor as he mumbled in a low voice, “Yeah. What if I don’t want to be either?”

Chopper was so surprised that he let the helmet fall to the ground. Rex looked to Kanan to gauge his reaction, perhaps to see if such a sentiment was normal. Kanan could only gawk. Did those words really just come out of Ezra Bridger? Ezra, the boy who used to complain loudly if there wasn’t time for his training. Ezra, the boy who had so obviously idolized Kanan after their assault on the Imperial prison on Stygeon Prime. Ezra, the boy who couldn’t wait to build his own lightsaber. The only time he had shown disinterest in his training had been on Empire Day, and even then he only asked to delay the lesson to another time. Kanan had never had any doubt that Ezra wanted to become a jedi. 

Perhaps sensing how keenly he had stung his master, Ezra dropped his eyes lower as Kanan asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Just then, footsteps clattered down the Ghost’s ramp. “Hey practice squad,” Sabine called. “Hera called a meeting. Attendance is mandatory.”

Ezra took the chance to plunk the blaster rifle back into Rex’s hands and then escape onto the ship.

“So what’s bothering him?” Rex asked as Kanan made his own way back toward the ramp.

“No idea,” he answered shortly. “This is new.”

By the time they walked into the common area, Hera was already firing up the holo table. General Sato’s image appeared above it, bathing the room in blue light. In his typical rigid voice he reported, “As we speak, the frozen planet of Rinn is facing an energy crisis. When their supply of fuel cells are gone, they will not be able to power the heaters they need to survive.”

“They’ll freeze down there,” Sabine commented sympathetically.

“We’re already on Garel,” Ezra reasoned. “We should check out the black market.”

Kanan agreed. “Bound to be generators or something we can get our hands on.”

“See what you can find without delay,” the general ordered before his holo disappeared.

“Gear up everyone,” Hera said, pushing herself to her feet. “Time to go make friends with the locals.”

As everyone filtered out of the room to prepare, Kanan watched Hera plant herself directly in Ezra’s path. He wasn’t sure what she needed, but he had long ago learned to trust her when it came to giving orders to the rest of the crew. He stood beside her with arms crossed. Hera stopped Ezra with a hand on his shoulder as he tried to push past them.

“Except you, Spectre Six. I asked you to clean the ion scoring off the Phantom’s exhaust ports twice.”

“But I had jedi practice! And blaster practice!” Ezra protested.

“Well, now you have scrubbing practice,” she answered with a smile. 

As Ezra’s expression soured, Chopper rolled away making a warbling sound somewhat like a laugh. Hera turned on him. “What are you laughing at? Uh-uh. You’re going to help him.”

Grumbling, the droid did a slow 180 and joined Ezra. Hera gave a satisfied nod. She moved off to get herself ready for the errand, lekku trailing in her wake. 

Kanan regarded his brooding apprentice. In the past when something was bothering Ezra, he had been able to get it out of him fairly easily. On Empire Day, Ezra was upset because old memories were haunting him. Before their attack on the Imperial transmission tower, he was distant and moody because he was afraid that completing this mission might cost him the very people he cared about (and he was almost right). On both occasions, guiding him through his fears had been the key. 

This time seemed different. Ezra felt completely closed to him; even his presence in the Force had dimmed, as if he was actively trying to cut himself off from his master. This baffled Kanan. It was almost as though he were the one Ezra was angry at. Although about what he had no idea. He opened his mouth to ask about it, but stopped when he saw that the boy was refusing to make eye contact with him. 

Perhaps, just this once, he shouldn’t push him. Maybe cleaning the Ghost for a while by himself was exactly what Ezra needed. He didn’t want to leave without offering some form of encouragement however, so he asked, “We’ll discuss this later?”

“Can’t wait for that,” Ezra grumbled sarcastically.

The response was disheartening. Nevertheless, Kanan left him to his thoughts.

Within a few minutes, he was headed out of the cargo bay with the entire party minus Spectres Three and Six. He glanced back at the Ghost when he heard light footsteps plodding sullenly across the hull. Ezra’s back was deliberately to them, but Kanan could see that he had the appropriate tools in hand and was beginning his work.  
Hera lightly touched Kanan’s shoulder when she saw that he had stopped. “He’ll be alright, Love,” she said quietly. “Just give him some space.”

Resigning, he turned away to walk with the twi’lek. Teenagers were such a puzzle. Had he been like this with his master? He almost wished he could go back and apologize.

\-------------

The markets of Garel were bustling. Although the Empire technically had control of this world, their presence was not felt as heavily here as it had been on Lothal. This was particularly true for the area they were visiting. The black market was stretched across a maze of streets and alleyways in a run-down neighborhood on the edge of the city. To cover more ground, the rebels split into two groups. Hera wisely suggested that Rex accompany Sabine and Zeb while she and Kanan went the opposite way.

It took almost an hour of asking around before he and Hera got a lead on where to look for power generators. They located the vendor inside a dimly lit cantina playing sabaac. The ill-tempered devaronian was not pleased to be interrupted. He told them that even if he wanted to help them, he couldn’t. The two crates of power generators he owned had just been sold yesterday.

After a little more digging around, they found another potential seller. This one was a middle-aged human woman who immediately turned hostile when asked about the power generators. The few that she had had just recently been stolen, she told them. Kanan and Hera left before she could accuse them of being in league with the thieves.  
Frustrated at the lack of success, Kanan checked in with Sabine.

“No luck here,” the Mandolorian answered over the comm. “Everyone seems to have just run out. It looks like someone went through Garel and cleaned out the generators right before we got here.”

Kanan rubbed his temple. Perfect. Just perfect. “Alright,” he said. “One more hour, just in case, and then we rendezvous at the Ghost.”

“Copy that, Spectre One.” 

The next hour proved even more fruitless than the rest of the day had been. Not only did they not find anyone else who knew anything about power generators, but they also ran into a peddler who actually thought that Kanan was Hera’s handler, and offered to buy her from him for 50,000 credits. Luckily, the pathetic human quickly backed off when Kanan shared a few choice words with him. If he hadn’t, he would have swiftly received a firm punch in the gut. 

As they made their way back to the hanger, they ran into the rest of their crew.

“Charming planet here,” Zeb commented sarcastically as he fell into step beside Kanan. “I’m only surprised there aren’t more Imperials. Seems like their kind of scum.”

“To be fair, we visited the worst part of the city,” Sabine reminded him. “Anytime this many people live in one place, the dregs are bound to gather together.”

The lasat made a sour face. “To bad none of those dregs had any power generators. Now what do we do?”

“We’ll just have to keep looking,” Hera replied. “There are other cities on Garel. We can try again somewhere else.”

After a few minutes, they arrived back at the Ghost’s current resting place. “If we’re making another run like that, then we’ve gotta get some grub first,” Zeb said. “I say we grab the kid, get some real food for a change, and then go to another city.”

Rex nodded approval. “That doesn’t sound like a bad plan.”

Suddenly, Sabine stopped short. Kanan would have run into her if his jedi reflexes hadn’t given him a split second warning.

Hera stopped too. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

Sabine stared at the Ghost. “Hera...the Phantom’s gone.”

As one, everyone’s eyes snapped to the roof of the ship. Where they had left Ezra and Chopper to do a job that could not possibly be done yet, there was a noticeable vacancy. The small excursion ship was missing, and so were the boy and the droid.

Kanan immediately stretched out with the Force. The space of a breath confirmed it. Ezra was not on the Ghost. Kanan couldn’t tell where he was. Frowning, he pulled out his comlink. “Spectre Six, report.”

No answer came. 

“Spectre Three?”

Still nothing. Anger stirred in his stomach. Ezra—who had only just been taught how to fly—had obviously taken the Phantom for some kind of joyride. Kanan had known he was upset, but he thought his padawan had gained a better sense of responsibility by now. The Phantom was not his to take. If he damaged it in any way, he was going to have Hera to answer to. And even if he didn’t, any number of things could go wrong.

Kanan growled. “Kid’s going to get himself killed.”

“Well he can’t have gone too far,” Sabine reasoned. “It’s not like the Phantom has its own hyperdrive.”

The jedi wasn’t so sure. “If he’s still in range, then why isn’t he answering his comm?”

“Could be that he doesn’t want to,” Rex offered unhelpfully. “He was acting a bit strangely.”

Kanan felt a pressure building behind his eye that threatened to erupt into a migraine at any moment. What did a washed up old clone captain know about his padawan? Nothing. Nothing at all.

Hera’s arms were crossed as she considered her ship. “We’ll give them until the end of the day,” she said calmly. “Then, we go look for them.” Someone who did not know how to read her might have missed the agitated curl of her lekku and the lower tone of her voice, but Kanan wasn’t fooled. She was very close to losing her usually well-kept patience. 

Zeb tried to laugh it off. “Aw, he probably just got hungry and went to look for some meilooruns.”

Kanan highly doubted that. He was almost positive this was an act of teenage rebellion. Again. At least the last time he had slipped away he had been accompanied by Zeb and Sabine as well as Chopper. Kanan did not like the idea of his apprentice gallivanting off somewhere with only the droid for supervision. Chopper did not exactly count as a responsible authority figure. 

The rest of the crew walked slowly toward the ship. “Can we at least get some grub while we wait?” Zeb asked.

Sabine rolled her eyes. “Not a good idea Zeb. What if we get a call and have to take off quickly to go rendezvous with them? Eat a ration bar.”

The lasat groaned. “That’s all we’ve eaten for weeks.”

“You made waffles this morning.”

“Yeah, for the first time in six months!”

Kanan stalked past them. Their bickering was not improving his mood. He sought the seclusion of his own cabin. The fact that he could not sense where Ezra was troubled him. Usually if they were at least on the same planet, or hovering above it, Kanan would know. Now he felt nothing, which strongly suggested Ezra had travelled farther away. But how, and why, he didn’t know.

Kanan unconsciously began pacing the floor of his room. That was not the only thing he didn’t know. He had previously believed that if Ezra were ever really in danger, he would know it. His own master had always seemed to know. After all, when Kanan was being held and tortured in Imperial custody, Ezra had apparently always known he was alive and, according to Hera, had often seemed to be in pain. Kanan realized then that their bond as master and padawan had grown strong.

And then a few days ago Ezra had returned from his impromptu mission with his teammates and reported that they had been attacked by two new inquisitors. The news still shook Kanan to his core. He had not known that his team was in danger. He had not sensed when Ezra was in pain. Zeb’s words still rung in his mind. Why didn’t you tell us there were more of them?

He had opened his mouth to say “Because I didn’t know,” but then stopped himself. That was not a good enough answer. Why didn’t he know? As a jedi, shouldn’t he have been more aware of the movement of the Dark Side? Shouldn’t he have at least felt uneasy when his padawan’s life was in danger? His own helplessness stunned him. Perhaps the reason he had since been training Ezra so vigorously, pushing him until he felt like he had to go off on his own in a dangerous galaxy, was to ease his own fears. That niggling voice in the back of his mind that sometimes bothered him came back in full force. He wasn’t skilled enough to train an apprentice as powerful as Ezra. He couldn’t protect the people he loved. The story of Kanan Jarrus was ever one of loss. It was a destiny he could not escape.

Kanan forced himself to sit down on his bed. He needed to meditate. If he could immerse himself in the Force, maybe he could get a lock on Ezra’s location. It was only through discipline and years of practice that he was able to reign in his emotions and force his mind to quiet. With a deep breath, he opened himself to the Force. He could feel it pulsing around him. The living beings on the ship caused gentle ripples. The thousands of people milling about in the city beyond formed an intricate web. Ezra’s familiar signature was not among them.

Not surprised, Kanan tried to extend his reach outward. He ignored the rest of Garel; he already knew Ezra was not there. The farther he extended his senses, the more it felt like he was wading through chest-deep water. He tried to glean anything he could from their bond--a feeling, a thought, a heartbeat. He was concentrating so hard, he almost missed the knock on his door.

He opened bleary eyes to find Hera letting herself in. “You’ve been in here for hours,” she said. “I was starting to think something was wrong.”

Kanan blinked at his chrono-clock. Had that much time already gone by? He rubbed a hand over his tired face. Communing with the Force could be as exhausting as it was refreshing, and it sometimes muddled the perception of time. “I was trying to find him,” he admitted in a quiet voice.

She knelt beside him. “Any luck?”

He shook his head. “No… If something’s happened…”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” she said firmly. “Ezra didn’t survive on his own for so many years by being weak. He’s strong, and smart.”

“He was also never hunted by inquisitors until he joined us.”

Hera looked down, biting her lip. That was the first indication Kanan had received of her worry. Her fear for her crew members threatened to spill out from behind her barriers. Kanan could sense it. Now it was his turn to place a comforting hand on her shoulder.

They sat in silence for a few moments until suddenly the whir of engines and a telltale click caused them both to jump.

“The Phantom’s back!” Sabine announced over the internal comm.

With a smile, Hera hurried from the room. Kanan paused. Something was wrong. He still couldn’t sense Ezra. He quickly followed after the twi’lek, his long legs catching up with her right as she entered the common room. He found the rest of the crew just arriving as well. They waited by the ladder as footsteps exited the Phantom above.

However, the person who came shuffling down the ladder forced them all into a stunned silence. It was not Ezra. It was an elderly male weequay with a helmet and large goggles that made his eyes look larger than they were. Under one arm he carried a box filled to the brim with gold credits. When he spun around and saw he had an audience, he started. “Oh! Hello, you all must be the owners of this fine vessel. A wonderful ship to be sure! I completely intended to come here.”

Sabine was the first to find her voice. “Uh, who are you?”

“And where’s Ezra?” Zeb asked with scowl.

“And what are you doing with my ship?” Hera added. Her lekku curled again.

“Ah, you must be Ezra’s crew!” the weequay exclaimed. “Brave Ezra Bridger! We are very good friends. We had quite an adventure.”

Rex crossed his arms. “You look vaguely familiar. What’s your name?”

“Of course, how rude of me. I am Hondo Ohnaka, the legendary!” he waved his hand with a broad smile. “You may well have heard of me. I’m quite famous.”

Kanan rested his hand lightly on his blaster. “And where is Ezra now?”

“Oh now that tale is thrilling!” Hondo answered. “I’m not sure I can do it justice.”

“Try.”

“You have good taste, I can tell. And so I will tell you of the heroics of one young Ezra Bridger. I call it: ‘the time I thought I met Lando Calrissian, but met a jedi instead.’”

At the word “jedi,” everyone tensed. Hondo quickly corrected, “Oh don’t worry! His secret is safe with Hondo. I have no love for the Empire, I can tell you that. I knew more than one jedi, many years ago.”

When he saw the hard, unconvinced looks on their faces, he apparently decided to switch tactics. “Speaking of jedi friends, Ezra asked me to deliver these power generators to you.” He motioned in the direction of the Phantom.

Sabine’s eyebrows raised. “You’re the one who bought up all the power generators?”

“It would be very correct to say that I acquired them. So let’s make a deal! I returned your ship safe and sound, I leave you with half the power generators, and we part ways as associates. What do you say to that my friends?”

Hera put her hands on her hips. “Sabine, check the Phantom. And as for you,” she shoved a finger at Hondo, “you’re not going anywhere until you tell us what happened to Ezra and our astromech.”

“Oh no, no I wouldn’t dream of it!” he cried, placing a hand on his heart as if he’d been struck. “You must know, yes. But first, how about we move these crates of generators to your cargo hold, you keep three of the five, and then I tell you of your young teammate’s heroics.”

“Good idea. Why don’t you and I head there. Right now,” Kanan said firmly.

“You know, I like you. You know how to handle a bargain. How would you like four of the crates?”

Kanan shoved his shoulder toward the hallway. “Get moving.” 

Common sense told him that there was no logical explanation for Hondo’s sudden appearance that ended well, but still something stopped him from being hostile with him. He had no doubt that every word out of the weequay’s mouth was a half-truth at best. And yet, Kanan could not sense any...darkness. Hondo had obviously done his share of dishonest deeds, but there was something about him that told Kanan he was not truly a threat. A sort of strange familiarity, as if he had been touched with light. Perhaps he really had known a few jedi.

As Sabine and Zeb went to retrieve the crates and check for any damage to the Phantom, Hera followed Kanan and their “guest” to the cargo hold. Once there, they both stood between Hondo and the open exit ramp with arms crossed.

“Alright, we’re listening. Spill it,” Hera ordered.

“Well you see,” Hondo began, holding tightly to his box of credits, “it all began when I had engine trouble with my new ship. It was completely dead in space, just hanging over Garel! In desperation, I sent out a distress signal. It was Ezra Bridger who answered my plea for help. He fixed the engine, but wouldn’t you know it! We were attacked by none other than the villainous Vizago. I believe you are acquainted with him, yes? He had come to steal my ship! He boarded us and attacked with his massive droids!”

He articulated every point he made with expressive hand motions. He began describing an elaborate firefight in which Chopper apparently took hold of two stray blasters and rolled at a much larger droid at top speed, firing away. Kanan had to wonder how much of that was true. It actually sounded pretty accurate.

As Hondo spoke, the rest of the crew made their way to the cargo hold, bringing with them the five crates of generators. The weequay also slowly began inching to the side, in small steps at first, until he and the crew’s positions were reversed. Now Hondo was the one with his back to the exit, and every time he leaned back for effect, he moved farther back toward his escape. Kanan was not fooled, but neither was he threatened. If this smuggler—or whatever he was—had intended to hurt them, he would have done so by now.

“So, after we finally managed to lock Vizago in the brig, disable the rest of his droids, and confiscate his generators, it was smooth sailing. Ezra and I were on the way to a profitable payout. But then that crafty Vizago must have told young Bridger all sorts of lies to turn him against me! And after our friendship had just begun!”

Zeb scoffed. “C’mon old man. You actually expect us to believe any of this?”

Hondo gave what sounded like a rehearsed laugh. “Wait, wait, I’m not done! Then, he let Vizago out! The villain was upon us, I’m telling you!”

Suddenly, a very welcome sight materialized at the foot of the ramp. Ezra himself came walking onto the Ghost, Chopper at his heels. Kanan had been so focused on Hondo that he hadn’t noticed his presence drawing near. Relief seeped through to his bones. Neither the boy nor the droid appeared to be harmed. He felt the tension around Hera release.

Hondo did not see Ezra approach behind him. He continued, “But young Ezra, he stood tall in front of me and withstood a massive attack--ah!” He caught sight of the teen then and he stepped up next to him. “My friend!” he exclaimed, patting him on the back. “I was just talking about you! How you and I rescued the generators from the evil Vizago!”

“Yeah, that’s not true,” Ezra said in a voice that indicated he was one hundred percent done with Hondo’s antics. “You stole the generators and my ship.”

Kanan felt a smile crack his lips. He was looking forward to hearing the real story later. It sounded like it was going to be good.

Hondo gasped. “What an accusation! You wound me!”

“Chopper had the Phantom on autopilot.”

For once the weequay dropped his enthusiastic voice as he muttered, “Well...that is one version of the story I suppose. I’ll tell you what. You can keep the generators. They are my gift to you. Goodbye!”

Seeing his opening, Hondo strode down the ramp to freedom, still clinging to his credits. Surprisingly, Ezra followed him.

“Just so you know,” he said, causing Hondo to pause and look at him, “at one time, I might have joined your crew.”

“You might…” the weequay’s words dissolved into laughter. “Oh Ezra… You truly are a jedi.” It was said with such an unexpected level of emotion that Kanan felt certain Hondo actually had known some of the Order. He wondered who he had been friends with, and how he reacted upon learning that they had all died. It was a grim reminder that there had probably been many loved ones left behind after order 66. Even with the Empire in charge, there were those that remembered their fallen friends.

“Contact Commander Sato,” Hera said with a smile. “Tell him Ezra Bridger found his generators.”

As the rest of the crew went about their business inside the ship, Kanan joined Ezra on the ground as he watched Hondo walk away into the night. He crossed his arms, glancing at his padawan. “So. You went for a little spin.”

“I was just trying to figure things out,” Ezra replied.

“And did you?”

“I used to be like Hondo,” he said thoughtfully. “Out for myself and alone. But that’s not who I am anymore.”

“Hm,” Kanan agreed, feeling pride building in his chest. “You’re on a different path now.”

The smile that creased Ezra’s eyes as he looked up at his master would remain in Kanan’s memory for years to come. “And I have you guys.”

The jedi smiled back at him. Yes. He did. As they both turned back to the warm light of the Ghost, Kanan draped an arm over Ezra’s shoulders; something he had been feeling more of an urge to do ever since Rex had joined them. As important as it was to train Ezra in the ways of the jedi, it was also important to make sure that this orphan knew that he would never be alone again. He had a family now, and they loved him.

When they reached the common room, Hera was waiting for them. “Nice talk?” she asked.

Ezra must have read something in her tone, or perhaps received a premonition through the Force, because he said, “Oh you know, I was just telling Kanan about how I used to be all alone on the streets, you know by myself, but I’m not anymore because I have you guys and you’re awesome.”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile remained. “Uh-huh, nice try. But I couldn’t help but notice that the Phantom still has ion scoring.” She handed him the tool he would need. “Take this, and get scrubbing. I’d like at least some of it done before you go to bed.”

Ezra held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay that’s fair. ...Just so you know, the whole thing was Chopper’s idea.”

A loud mechanical protest sounded from the next room.

“Oh don’t worry,” Hera said with a satisfied expression. “He’s going to help you.”

Chopper rolled around the corner to complain more clearly.

“C’mon Chop!” Ezra cut him off. “Half the work was supposed to be yours anyway!”

“That’s right,” their captain agreed. “Now get moving. And don’t wander off this time.”

As the two headed off to complete their original assignment, Hera gave Kanan a punch on the arm. “Softie.”


End file.
